


Blue Eyes (I Hold You Near)

by ktfranceebee



Series: Blue Eyes (I Hold You Near) Universe [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Friendship, Friendship/Love, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktfranceebee/pseuds/ktfranceebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Kurt—best friends—share an apartment together in Manhattan. When Kurt goes back home for two weeks during the summer, everything seems to fall into place when he realizes home is definitely where the heart is. And his heart didn’t seem to quite make it past the airport terminal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to compensate for the fact that the wonderful Max Adler was not present in the final episodes of Glee as he should have been. As a disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did I would want the future to look like this for my two favorite boys--full of hope, confusion, friendship, and most importantly love and understanding.

Only two days had gone by since receiving their final grades and Kurt and Dave were already standing in the bustling airport. Kurt was quite pleased to learn that he finished the semester off with three ‘ _A’_ s and two  _‘B_ ’s. One  _A_  more than last semester. It didn’t come as a surprise when Dave received straight A’s his third semester in a row. If anyone were to ask Kurt during his junior year of high school whether David Karofsky would be on the Dean’s list at New York University, Kurt would have laughed in their face. Had someone told that same Kurt that, in less than four years, David Karofsky would not only be his roommate but his best friend as well… Needless to say, Kurt probably wouldn’t be associating with such a person in the first place.

“Hey…” Kurt’s thoughts were interrupted by an inquisitive voice in front of him. Kurt weaved in and out of a few people, gripping his carry-on shoulder bag at the strap so it wouldn’t hit him or anyone else passing him as he caught up to the man.

“I don’t see what you’re so worried about,” Kurt said with a huff as he walked side by side with Dave, who was dragging Kurt’s rolling suitcase behind him. “You’re not the one with the flight to catch.” 

Kurt slipped his arm into the crook of Dave’s elbow so his shorter strides wouldn’t cause him to fall behind with Dave’s much longer ones. 

“Your dad doesn’t like me as it is… The least I can do is promise to get his son to the airport on time,” Dave explained. Kurt gave Dave a simpering smile as he clutched at his arm, looking up at him teasingly.

“You know that’s not true,” Kurt said coyly as Dave rolled his eyes, obviously not believing Kurt’s testament. Dave last saw Kurt’s family during Christmas break before the second semester of their sophomore year when he went home to visit his dad. 

Burt Hummel was aware of the blooming friendship his son was developing with his ex-bully after Dave’s attempted suicide. Although Burt couldn’t say he would do the same had he been in Kurt’s position—despite the discovery Dave’s true sexuality—he could understand where his son was coming from when he said he wanted to help Dave through his difficult time. Kurt had both the stubbornness and kindness as his mother.

“Okay…” Kurt drawled, conceding as he looked at the floor scuffed from people’s dress shoes and luggage wheels. “Maybe it’s going to take him more than five months to get used to the idea of us living together, but he can’t deny the amount of money we already saved splitting rent between the two of us instead of having to pay an arm and a leg for each of our dorm rooms. Also, I think he likes the idea of you possibly getting him tickets to a Cincinnati Tigers game once you become a famous sports agent.”

“You mean… The  _Bengal’s_ , right?” Dave asked, raising an arched eyebrow. He looked down at Kurt with a confused, if not mildly amused, expression. He seemed to be using all of his strength to hold back the laugh threatening to spill from his lips. Death would be a better option than poking fun at one Kurt Hummel. In all likelihood, telling Kurt he was wrong would more than likely result in the former.

It was Kurt’s turn to roll his eyes.

“David, I’m talking about  _football_ , not female rock bands of the  _80’s._ ”

When Kurt looked away, he missed the fond expression Dave gave him before he huffed out a laugh and shook his head as they came upon the luggage check-in point.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he replied, conceding defeat, “Whatever you say, Kurt.”

 

~~~

 

“That will be twenty-five dollars, Mr. Hummel.”

Up at the baggage check-in, Kurt began to rifle through his bag for his wallet in order to pay for his luggage. There was no need to pack heavy as he still kept many of his belongings in Ohio, despite the fact that he would never, legitimately, live anywhere other than New York ever again. So he was glad he wouldn’t have to pay more for any unnecessary luggage. He couldn’t, however, say that the circumstances would be the same when he came back.

“Let me just…” Kurt continued the search for his wallet as the blonde woman behind the counter waited patiently. By the time Kurt felt the square object at the bottom of his bag, Dave already pulled his own out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I got it,” Dave said as he flipped the leather flap open and pulled out two rumpled bills. He handed them over before Kurt was able to protest. The woman accepted them without any hesitation.

“David, what are you doing?” Kurt questioned him. 

“It’s fine,” Dave shrugged as the woman busied herself with attaching the labels to Kurt’s suitcase.

“It was only twenty-five dollars, I could have paid for my own luggage,” he explained, slightly affronted.

“Exactly. It was only twenty-five dollars, so no big deal.” The woman handed Dave Kurt’s receipt, as Kurt was currently facing Dave with his arms crossed. Dave smiled at the woman and thanked her before walking away. Kurt followed behind him once more.

“If this has to do with me quitting my job at  _Zen Palate_ —“

“Kurt,” Dave stopped his walking and faced Kurt, taking both of Kurt’s upper arms in his hands. He smiled which only made Kurt feel more uneasy.

“You would have been crazy not to quit your job. You boss was a dick for not giving you vacation time after working there for so long. And you need to go see your family. You haven’t visited them since Thanksgiving.”

“But what about—“ Dave hushed Kurt with a shake of his head, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Don’t worry about rent. It’s not due for another month anyway, alright? You can look for a new one when you get back. Just go relax, have fun. You work harder than anyone I know, between classes, homework, work, rehearsals, and performances.” He rattled off. “You’re going to burn yourself out before you even start your junior year.” Kurt visibly relaxed as he took a breath. He was thankful for having such an understanding friend. As they started to walk again, Kurt slipped his arm around Dave’s waist.

“I still wish you could come back home with me,” Kurt said with a pout. “The plane ride is going to be boring without anyone to annoy with my extensive musical knowledge.”

“I’m sure you can find someone other than me to put to sleep by comparing the career of Liza Minnelli against Barbra Streisand.” Dave playfully wrapped an arm around Kurt’s shoulders despite already coming upon his gate.

“Shut up,” Kurt said as he swatted his arm. Dave laughed despite Kurt already sobering up as they separated.

“I’m going to miss you.” Kurt pressed his lips together resolutely as he looked away from Dave’s awfully cheerful face.

“Hey, it’s only for two weeks,” Dave reminded him in what Kurt supposed was a consoling voice. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to have some time away from me and my annoying habits… Never taking my shoes off when I first come into the apartment. Always forgetting to put the twisty tie on the loaf of bread.” He smirked, but the expression never quite reached his eyes. They stayed despondent and pleading as he kept them trained on Kurt.

Kurt couldn’t remember the last time they spent so much time apart. There wasn’t a time, he realized, that measured up to this since starting college. His only reaction towards this realization was to wrap his arms around Dave’s middle. He hid his face in his shoulder until he felt a pair of strong arms circle around him. 

“And I better not come home to find our place looking like a frat party blew through there,” Kurt mumbled into the fabric of Dave’s shirt more than ten seconds into their embrace. “I know how you college boys are.”

“Nah… It’s the sorority parties you should worry about. You know how I am with the ladies,” Dave said dryly. Kurt withdrew himself from Dave’s arms, his eyes looking redder than they were just a moment ago, but he smiled at Dave’s untimely humor all the same.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land,” Kurt assured him with a squeeze of his hand. 

“You’d better.” Dave inclined his head. He tucked the receipt from the luggage check-in into the pocket of Kurt’s bag. “Now go on before you miss your flight.” He directed his head in the direction of the terminal.

“’Kay,” Kurt sighed morosely, slipping his hand out of Dave’s  in order to adjust his shoulder bag. 

As Kurt turned around to walk to the gate, he didn’t take more than two steps before Dave added, “Tell everyone I said  _hi_.”

“I will,” Kurt called out to him over his shoulder. 

Dave watched Kurt as he made his way towards the gate with his head down as he rummaged for his plane ticket. He watched him as he handed the TSA agent his ticket and stepped through the metal detector. Even as Kurt became just a small blip in the seemingly endless airport terminal, Dave didn’t leave. Instead, he made his way to a chair pressed against the high glass windows looking out at the jumbo jets and commercial airplanes on the tarmac as he sat down sideways on the chair.

“Just two weeks,” Dave recited quietly as he leaned his head against the warm surface of the window. He stayed in that spot for another half-hour until he saw the one o’clock plane to Columbus take off into the clear blue sky.

 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Kurt—best friends—share an apartment together in Manhattan. When Kurt goes back home for two weeks during the summer, everything seems to fall into place when he realizes home is definitely where the heart is. And his heart didn’t seem to quite make it past the airport terminal.

As Kurt was lying in his old bed, staring up at the dark ceiling of his old bedroom, he couldn't help but feel guilty for the neglect that he was showing his family.

 

Well… Not  _neglect_ per se, but the fact that as he spent time with his family, his thoughts remained focused on a single person. A person not present with him at the home he spent his last two years of high school in but, rather, in New York City.

 

He thought of Dave no matter what he was doing. He thought of him as he complained about the stirrup pants the baseball players were wearing as he sat on the couch in the living room as his dad watched ESPN. He thought of Dave when he went into the kitchen only to find that Finn merely twisted the loose end of the plastic bag containing the loaf of bread and tucked it underneath it after he made toast one morning. He thought about him when he went shopping with Carole and spotted a hideously striped polo shirt. Dave, though not present himself, seemed to be with him in his thoughts wherever he went.

 

It was only four days into his trip and Kurt texted Dave at almost every opportunity, especially during the day when he knew Dave would be at his job and wouldn't be able to text him back. Kurt hoped that Dave enjoyed the silly, almost pointless messages sent to him and could almost imagine the look on his face as he read them on the cab ride home at the end of the day.

 

Kurt rolled over onto his side and reached for his phone on the end table next to his bed.

 

Almost half past nine, the illuminated screen showed him. He felt bone tired from the work he did, helping his dad and Finn out at the tire shop. Once he crawled into bed, however, his head was plagued with thoughts of his small, two bedroom apartment on the fifth floor in the middle of Manhattan, nestled halfway in between NYADA and New York University.

 

Kurt chewed on his lip as he went into his contacts and found his thumb hovering above the second entry under 'D'. He wondered if Dave would be asleep already, or else playing Xbox for the first time in months without having to worry about homework, football practice, or his sports management internship.

 

Finally, Kurt pressed the screen when he realized that Dave would be the last person to chew him out for calling him after heading for bed.

 

Kurt rolled onto his back once more as he listened to the rings. Eventually, on the third ring, a click could be heard and a voice appeared on the other end.

 

_"Hi, sorry it took me so long to pick up. Brushing my teeth."_

_  
_

"Good to see that you are still capable of good oral hygiene even when I'm away." He cringed slightly after the words came out of his mouth. As though, for whatever reason, Dave needed to have fresh breath when Kurt was around.

 

Kurt could hear the sound of spitting and running water in the background. He wrinkled his nose when he realized that Dave wasn't quite finished with the task.

 

 _"I'm not completely helpless,"_  Dave scoffed and Kurt could hear the sound of scratchy bristles against the hard enamel of teeth.  _"I seemed to make it through three semesters on my own, didn't I?"_

"Weren't you the one who caused the fire alarm to go off in your old dorm, though?" Kurt asked innocently.

 

_"S'not my fault my old roommate's microwave malfunctioned."_

_  
_

"Popcorn at three o'clock in the morning," Kurt tsked. "Somebody needs to have a talk with the guy who said that was a good idea."

 

 _"Well… You're talking to him."_ Kurt snickered as he heard the water being turned off.

 

 _"So why are you calling so late?"_  Dave asked, changing the subject.  _"Is everything alright?"_

_  
_

"Nine-thirty is considered late? What are we? Senior citizens?" Kurt feigned being scandalized.

 

 _"Well, considering how I don't hear Hudson yelling obscenities on your end, or no sound of your dad watching TV in the background, or the sound of you helping Carole with the dishes after what was bound to be an amazing meal, I'd say you already retired to your bedroom."_ Kurt could practically hear the smirk on Dave's face.

 

"Why, aren't you just the modern day Sherlock. Tell me… Why did I introduce you to that show again?"

 

 _"Maybe because… I have a fetish for wool sweaters?"_ He joked.

 

"Mmm…" Kurt hummed, tapping a contemplative finger to his chin, not that Dave could see it. "I had you pegged for a pea-coats and scarves kind of guy. So, are you going to sleep as well?"

 

_"Yeah, you caught me. Work was kind of hectic today."_

_  
_

"Answering phone calls? Talk about a chore," Kurt teased.

 

_"Yeah, well… It's the summer. There are a lot of prospective students calling about financial aid information and scholarships and whatnot."_

_  
_

"I know, Dave," Kurt groaned as he rolled onto his back. "I'm just teasing you."

 

There was a lengthy pause as Kurt waited for Dave to give him a reply. Kurt could hear him clear his throat.

 

_"So, um… Everything is going okay over there?"_

_  
_

"Yeah!" Kurt said with some amount of false enthusiasm. "Yeah… Everything is great. I worked at the shop all day today. It's crazy how much business Dad and Finn have been getting since Dad was in congress. And I saw Noah Puckerman yesterday. He came back from California to visit his mom and sister."

 

 _"That's good."_ Kurt closed his eyes, listening to the sound of steady breathing coming from Dave. He wondered if, like him, he was in bed already.

 

"Yeah…" Kurt uttered as he pulled the covers closer to his chin.

 

_"You don't seem so happy about it."_

_  
_

"Well, I have to say. I would have thought two years since graduating high school would be enough to convince Puck of a new hairstyle." Kurt yawned.

 

 _"No,"_  Dave chuckled.  _"No, I mean you don't seem happy about being back home."_

_  
_

"I am," Kurt pressed. "I'm so happy that I'm able to spend time with my family and I just… I can't help thinking about…"

 

 _"'Bout what?"_ Dave questioned as Kurt paused.

 

"About you." He threw the covers over his head as though Dave could see his face.

 

 _"Me? Kurt, I'm alright… You know me. I find ways to keep busy."_ Kurt gave a wet laugh from underneath his cotton-covered fortress.

 

He rubbed his eyes as he couldn't help but feel a mixture of both flattery, at the fact that Dave seemed to be doing a horrible job at trying to convince Kurt that he was okay without him there, and guilt, for having to be the one to burst Dave's bubble that it wasn't him that he was worried about.

 

"What I'm trying to say is that I miss you." Kurt closed his eyes, but not regretting the words he expressed. He wondered what it was that was causing him to react this way. It's not like he and Dave were… Together. They were friends. Best friends. There was nothing wrong with a guy missing his best guy friend—even if they just so happened to be gay. Kurt tried push the knowledge away regarding the fact that, once upon a time, Dave told him that he thought he loved him.

 

 _"It's only been four days, Kurt,"_ Dave said in a somewhat raspy tone. He laughed weakly.

 

"I know it's only been four days," Kurt snapped stubbornly. "But I still have ten days before I come back home and I'm tired and I just want to go to sleep."

 

 _"So… You want me to hang up?"_ Dave asked uncertainly.

 

"No. I called you first didn't I?" Kurt probed. He emerged from underneath the covers when his face began to feel hot to the touch. "Sing me something to help me fall asleep. And before you say you don't sing, let me just say that I've listened to you sing in the shower every day for the past five months before I get up in the morning. Our walls are paper thin."

 

Kurt rolled onto his side and waited, quite aware of the tear tracks on his face, but not entirely sure how they got there or what provoked them. He closed his eyes as he nestled deeper into the soft sheets.

 

As he waited, Kurt began thinking that he would fall asleep long before Dave decided whether he would follow Kurt's instructions and sing him something; that he would just fall asleep listening to the deep, soothing breaths coming through the speaker. It wasn't until Kurt found himself in a state between oblivion and slight awareness that he heard a voice break through the silence of the night. The voice, though more pitchy than what he was used to hearing through the stucco of his bedroom wall, was deep and familiar. It was the familiarity that he craved the past four days and it seemed to permeate his senses.

 

_"…let the sun wrap its arms around me."_

_  
_

He felt as though he was in New York City. He could imagine the voice whispering into his ear was slipping past the sound of spraying water and was slightly garbled through tiles of the shower wall.

 

_"…send my thoughts to far off destinations."_

_  
_

Kurt's lips parted and a soft sigh escaped his mouth. In the back of his blissed out mind, he wondered what Dave would think if he knew Kurt not only heard him singing while he was in the shower, but how he sang under his breath he made coffee or breakfast in the morning as well.

 

_"…so blue eyes, I hold you near…"_

 

_~~~_

 

"Cause you're the only song I want to hear, a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere," Dave sang softly into the mouth piece. He sang the song languorously, paying close attention to his friend's breathing. As he reached the end of the song, he repeated the second half of the last line and then finally… Silence.

 

"Kurt…?" Dave asked into the stillness of their empty apartment. He contemplated keeping his phone on to create the illusion that Kurt was still with him in this gargantuan city—lonesome, despite the 1.5 million other people. But he figured, with Kurt out of a job, it wouldn't do either of them any good running up their cell phone bills. So with one last whisper, Dave said, _"Goodnight, Kurt,"_ before pulling the phone away from his ear and ending the call.

 

After he clicked the end call button, Dave sat back on the bed, staring at the dresser straight in front of him.

 

Upon the dresser next to the various hairspray cans, lotion bottles, and colognes sat a framed picture of he and Kurt. The picture was taken at Kurt's first college production during his second semester. The musical was  _South Pacific_ and Kurt wasn't even one of the leads; just a background singer and dancer. The picture of the two of the two of them said otherwise. Although Kurt knew he was destined to be a star (and Dave couldn't agree more), he didn't let being a background character stop him from shining just as bright. Dave could make out their smiling faces through the muted lighting, the only light courtesy of light he left on in the bathroom. The luminosity that managed to seep in from the adjoining room reflected like pin pricks on the glass, playing about their eyes in the picture. As Dave stared at the photo, he remembered how lucky he was, in all of the commotion backstage, to get someone to take a picture of the two of them in Kurt's shining moment.

 

He remembered how good it felt to be able to hold Kurt close as those blue eyes stared up at him. They both seemed to be in mid-laugh, and he must have said something to make Kurt give that obnoxious and infectious cackle. Kurt's hand was on his hand on his chest, as well, as though he was half-tempted to swat him; like he said something distasteful. Probably something having to do with " _sea_ men", if he remembered correctly, judging by the blush staining Kurt's porcelain cheeks and the fact that Kurt was, indeed, wearing a sailor costume.

 

They both seemed so—and there was no other way to put it— _couple-y_. Not that he minded. It was in that moment that Dave realized just how content he could be only being Kurt's friend if it meant being able to indulge in just the smallest amount of happiness with the man.

 

Dave rubbed his eyes wearily, looking away from the picture. As he leaned back onto his elbows on the comfortable bed, his hand brushed against the pillow next to him.

 

Hesitantly, Dave picked up the pillow and laid back, feet still dangling off the edge. He squeezed the squishy object before hugging it to his chest. He didn't even have to hold it near his face in able to smell the familiar burst of sweet, summertime citrus, surrounded by the softer floral notes, and the final woody spice of thyme and ginger.

 

Dave could feel the lump growing in his throat as he attempted to remind himself not to get himself worked up over a person he could never have. Dave closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he laid the pillow back down upon the bed. He wondered if ten more days without Kurt would clear his head or quickly drive him insane, before picking up his phone to retire to his own bedroom with the hopes that he would be able to get a good night's sleep.

 


	3. Part III

When Kurt woke up the next day, he found that his father was already sitting down at the kitchen table, drinking in the bright, early summer morning as well as a fresh, piping hot cup of coffee.

Kurt yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he went to the cupboard and pulled out a ceramic mug. He missed the inquiring look on his father's face.

"Morning," Kurt mumbled as he poured a stream of the heavenly-aromatic liquid into the vessel.

"Have a late night?" Burt asked lightly as he reached for his own mug. When Kurt turned around, he saw him staring at him expectantly over the rim of his mug.

"No…?" Kurt said in an upward inflection. "Why?" He set his mug on the kitchen island. This was their first time alone with his dad since he was picked up from the airport. The past couple of days consisted of Kurt being surrounded by his family as a whole.

"Well, I was wondering why you went to bed so early last night, so I checked up on you and found you passed out, using your phone as a pillow. Late night phone calls I should be worrying about?"

"I'm twenty years old, Dad," Kurt pointed out as he inclined his head for emphasis.

"No need to get defensive. I'm just messing with you, kiddo." Kurt relaxed, nodding as he went to the cupboard and withdrew a container of powdered vanilla creamer that he and Carole both loved so much. It was nice to see that she kept it in the same place; like she always put it there in the hopes that he could still find it when he came back.

"If you must know, I was talking to Dave. I haven't spoken to him properly since I got here."

"Hey, him and me both," Burt said in a brooding tone. Kurt gave him a somewhat guilty look.

"You'd think you guys were in two different countries. But I guess I don't blame you." He shrugged.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked, schooling his features. He halted his conquest in attempting to locate any possible Splendapackets. Coming up empty after checking in the pantry, he supposed he could do without. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it into his coffee, giving it a stir.

Burt sighed as he motioned to the chair in front of him.

"If we're going to talk, you might as well sit." Kurt gave him a suspicious look, as though he was about to be on the receiving end of a speech similar to those his dad gave to him while he was in high school. Eventually—and with coffee in hand as he would probably need the caffeine to survive this—he moved to the table and sat down cautiously in front of his dad.

"What I'm trying to say it that… During these past couple of years, you and David sort of became each other's rocks."

"Dad, if you're still upset about me and David being friends…"

"What's going on with you today?" Burt cut in. "Every time I mention Dave, you think I'm going to attack him or something."

Kurt opened his mouth blankly before he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he sighed as he absentmindedly stirred his coffee. "I don't know what's going on with me. I just have a lot of things on my mind right now."

"'A lot of things'being David."

"No," Kurt dragged out. "I… Need to find a job, finish registering for classes. That sort of thing."

"Right." Burt sat up straighter in his chair causing the legs of the chair to scrape slightly against the tile floor causing Kurt to look up at him.

"Kurt," Burt said firmly. "I have known you longer than anyone else on this planet. You're my son.I know I may only get to see you one, maybe two times throughout the year, if I'm lucky, but that doesn't stop me from figuring out what is going on in your life, or what's going on in your head."

When Kurt could only stare at him blankly, Burt continued.

"I mean, c'mon. My inbox is filling up because of the pictures you send me every week. One day it's'David and me visiting the Statue of Liberty' or 'David and me in Times Square'. David this, David that. And in all of the pictures of you two, I see how he looks at you and how you look at him." He smiled weakly. "I know that you—both of you—seemed to miss out on years of happiness while in high school. And in those pictures, I can finally see the happiness that you missed out on.

"I know you had your friends in the Glee Club, Kurt, but that didn't stop you from growing up so damned fast. In the blink of an eye you went from being my sweet little boy to strong, confident young man who I'm just as proud of." Kurt gave his dad a watery smile, thinking of the conversation that they had a few months before Kurt went off to New York. It was still so fresh in his memory. Burt continued on.

"And it should be the easiest thing in the world for me to hate that guy, and part of me reallywants to… But I don't. He's…" Burt nodded his head contemplatively. "He's a good guy, Kurt. I saw that the last time he was here. I don't know if you're just a good influence on him, but he's changed. I also don't know whether you like him, or something more, but I don't want you to have to hold out on something—you being happy—just because you are afraid of what other people think. Wasn't that something you figured out in high school?"

Kurt sat glued to his chair in shock. Did his dad just… Push him in the direction of dating the guy he once pinned to a corkboard in the middle of a high school hallway? And even more than that, did he realize his feelings for Dave before…

Oh, wow…

He had feelings for Dave.

"Wow, I…" Kurt articulated the exact words on his mind. He slumped back into his chair, a definite change from the rigid, upright position he sat in as he listened to his father's discourse. He retained his tight grip on the nearly scalding earthen material of the cup in his hand. "How did you do that?"

"I'm your dad. That's my job isn't it?" He said simply.

"I didn't even realize… Do you think…" Kurt swallowed thickly. "You don't think he loves me do you?" Kurt wanted to say 'still loves me.'There was once a time when Dave said he thought he loved him. Over the years, however, he was inclined to believe that he was right to think that what Dave felt for him was a just a crush. He never made any inclination that he still had feelings for Kurt.

"I dunno. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, for once. This psychology thing is kind of tiring this early in the morning." He took a huge gulp of his drink for added emphasis.

Kurt slipped his hand into the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out his phone, turning on the display. His background was none other than him and Dave; a rather up close and goofy self-portrait of them in the back of a taxi cab. Kurt was making a rather unattractive face; fish lips and cross-eyes, actually. Before he could begin to wonder why he would set such a monstrosity as his background, he looked at Dave's face and could understand why now: The smile on his face as he looked at Kurt as if he was the single most amazing thing in this world.

"He looks at me like you look at Carole," Kurt said softly and mostly to himself.

Burt, who had stood up, hovered behind his shoulder and nodded in agreement, before adding. "Like I looked at your mom."

"I don't know what to do, though, I… I don't want to hurt him…" And Kurt realized that was how it has always been. Never bringing dates back to their place; not that those boyfriends ever lasted. "Not again," he added in an undertone.

He wasn't entirely sure how Dave being hurt would factor in. If anything, Kurt was the one putting himself in a position to be hurt. But it wasn't as though Dave didn't do that numerous times before.

"You're a smart kid, Kurt. Sorry," he said as Kurt gave him a questioning look. "Smart adult. You'll figure it out." Kurt listened to the retreating footsteps that followed the squeeze of his shoulder. He looked back at the device in his hand. A smile played on his lips and he couldn't help the way his heart seemed to leap into his throat at the way the corners of Dave's eyes wrinkled from the smile on his face. And his eyes…

Something within Kurt stirred with curiosity as he recalled the words in the song Dave sang to him as he fell asleep last night. Though he could barely remember the lyrics, he knew he had heard that song before. Death Cab for Cutie, he recalled. Dave listened to a lot of alternative rock and indie bands that Kurt had never heard of before. But this song….

Kurt stood up and hurried out of the kitchen, cell phone in hand and rapidly cooling coffee long forgotten. As soon as he made it to the living room, he bounded up the stairs. Finn, too, had come home from Ohio State University during the summer but Kurt wasn't concerned about waking his stepbrother from his slumber as his feet pounded on the carpeted steps leading to the second floor. This was a matter of utmost importance.

As soon as Kurt was in his bedroom, he shut the door behind him. Spotting his bag where he left it on his desk, he opened it and pulled out what he was looking for: His headphones. After plugging them into the device and popping the little buds into his ears, he plopped onto his back on bed and scrolled through his music.

One of the perks, Kurt had to say, about having a roommate you know so well was having a wider variety of music to listen to. Whenever Kurt became bored of the songs he had on his own iPod, Dave had no qualms about letting Kurt borrow his laptop to swipe some of his songs. Kurt kindly offered to reciprocate the practice, but Dave apparently got his dose of Kurt's "kind of music", as he called it, courtesy of him having to frequently practice and rehearse his songs for theater, much to the disdain of their neighbors.

Finally, Kurt was able to find the song he was looking for. After pressing play, he closed his eyes and listened to the music drifting into his ears. The song was much different, he recalled, than the way Dave sang it.

Not that it was bad.

It's just that Dave's voice was much deeper—a baritone, actually—and the way his insides felt as he sang was incredibly pleasant. Something akin to eating a rich and chocolatey dessert.

Despite the fact that Kurt was enjoying the song, about half way through, however, he found himself ripping his headphones off and staring down at the device as though it told him a scandalous lie.

"Oh, David," Kurt whispered sadly as he set down his iPod. _'After all this time.'_

If he knew one thing for sure, it was that David still loved him and whether Kurt loved Dave, well… Kurt was almost certain that the mutual feelings of respect, friendship, and understanding between them sowed something much deeper. And now, Kurt was certain that it was love that had blossomed between them and was now batting its eye in Kurt's direction.


	4. Part IV

"…and please turn off all electronic devices and make sure all seats are in the upright position as we begin our descent."

Kurt was barely able to hear the voice of the flight attendant giving instructions to the passengers over the intercom due to the music playing in his ears. Rather, it was the movement of the passengers around him that let him know that they were already in New York.

Kurt, who turned his phone off after listening to the same song for the hundredth time, began to methodically wrap his headphones around the device before stowing it away in his carry-on bag. He had been trapped in a state of nervousness and excitement the entire flight there, and it had nothing to do with a phobia of flying.

It was a couple of minutes past ten o'clock and the only thing that Kurt could see as he looked beyond the thick window pane—besides the blinking red lights on the wing of the plane from where they were suspended in the inky-black sky—were the millions of shimmering pinkpricks, like constellations upon the surface of the earth, below.

Kurt smiled anxiously, despite himself. The agitated groan of the wheels could be heard as they emerged out of the bottom on the plane and in no time they bumpily touched down.

In just a matter of minutes he would be seeing Dave.

The last ten days of his stay were brutal, as much as he loved spending quality time with his family. During the days that followed their last phone call, Kurt did his best to avoid talking to Dave. The fact that he only returned Dave's texts and made a point not to send any of his own might have been a bit excessive, if not rude. He was so beyond terrified, though, that he would slip up and somehow manage to send a text to Dave consisting of less than 120 characters regarding how he felt about him. As much as he wanted to throw all caution to the wind- to call Dave and have a repeat of what happened the evening Dave practically crooned him to sleep-Kurt felt this was a conversation best had in person, not with hundreds of miles between the two of them.

Besides… What would happen if Dave no longer had feelings for him? Would he hang up on him? Would Kurt go back to his apartment in New York City only to find all of his belongings waiting for him in the lobby? Kurt had to stop himself there. Out of the many qualities Dave possessed—and that Kurt admired—spitefulness was not one of them.

As much as the past week or so had been a struggle enough to get through, the past couple of hours were torture.

Kurt's flight had been delayed for two hours due to a storm front that was making its way across the U.S. As much as he hated the fact that those two hours were spent looking at the tacky mugs and t-shirts at Port Columbus International Airport and wondering if it would be thoughtful or borderline sadistic to purchase a memento for Dave that could potentially remind him of the place they grew up in. Eventually, Kurt would put down the shot glass with ' _The Buckeye State'_  written across the side, and head to the terminal where the numerous televisions were playing CNN on infinite repeat.

Despite the long wait, Kurt knew he could still expect Dave to be waiting there for him. As soon as he realized he would not be in New York at 8 o'clock, like he expected when Kurt was planning his trip (as Dave was so insistant on being there to pick up Kurt from the airport), he had no choice but to send a courtesy text to Dave. The message contained a simple,  _'Won't be there 'til 10. Flight delayed.'_  It was short and to the point, but that didn't stop Kurt from over-analyzing the text for anything that could reveal a remote  _'I'm crazy about you.'_  Dave, however, replied with an equally short text saying,  _'Already here. Whoops.'_

As Kurt shuffled off the plane, he couldn't help feeling guilty for the fact that Dave had to wait two hours for him to arrive. But at least it would be late enough by the time they got home to just pass out and go to sleep. Screw unpacking. That could wait until morning.

Eventually, Kurt found himself with his luggage already in hand and looking around for where Dave could be impatiently awaiting his return. While on the plane, he imagined a myriad of different scenarios that could unfold once he and Dave were reunited. One scenario involved Kurt running to him, not caring about leaving his luggage where it was. He would push past people and finally Dave would wrap his arms around him. His favorite scenario, however, involved him jumping into Dave's arms like a scene right out of  _The Notebook_  and kissing Dave senselessly as words of love, hope and regret slipped past his lips unto Dave's in a single breath.

Despite Kurt feeling as though his nerves were on fire with anticipation just a minute ago, he began to feel them settle as he took in the still form of the man about twenty feet away.

At this point, none of the scenarios he imagined seemed possible. No slow motion running or a myriad of onlookers. No Ross and Rachel, ' _I got off the plane'_  spiel. Kurt sighed, looking downcast as he continued to the row of chairs while dragging his suitcase behind him. Once he came upon the form, he was correct in his assumption that this was Dave despite not being able to see his face. The man was wearing a grey sweatshirt with the words  _NYU Athletics_  written across the front and had the hood pulled all the way over his head. This was the only distinguishing feature, considering the fact that this person—Dave—was fast asleep. His hand was slack and obscuring his features while his arm was tucked under his head like a makeshift pillow. That, and the general largeness of the man who was so tall he had to stretch out across the row of four chairs in order to be remotely comfortable.

Kurt couldn't say he liked this scenario any less than those drawn up in his mind. Dave looked nothing less than sweet. He nostalgically reminded himself how there were plenty of occasions where he thought this about Dave. There was the one time he woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom only to find Dave passed out on the couch, textbooks strewn across the coffee table and another clutched to his chest. The obvious signs that he miserably failed to pull an all-nighter for a midterm.

Kurt smiled fondly at Dave whose chest rose softly with every breath he took. Kurt wondered why it had to take the actions of his father practically waving the notion that Kurt could potentially have feelings for Dave before realizing that,  _yeah_ , he really, _truly_  does. After days of self-diagnosis, Kurt was inclined to believe that those feelings were there, stagnant but still unwavering beneath the surface, since the time Kurt held his hand in the hospital room during what was the worse week of Dave's life. Both of their lives. As much as Kurt wished he could have realized it sooner, perhaps he needed this time to recover from his break-up with Blaine and date some guys in order to realize exactly what it was he wanted and needed in a partner, as well as who had been there for him all along.

_Dave._

All along it was Dave.

He wanted and needed Dave. And he hated to think about the possibility that Dave moved on a long time ago.

Kurt stood his suitcase upright next to him, pressing the handle in before crouching down.

" _David_ ," Kurt said in a breathy sigh, mostly to himself than in an attempt to wake the sleeping man. His name was an acknowledgement that he was, indeed, home. A soft smile graced Kurt's face as he tentatively stuck his hand out and rested it upon Dave's shoulder, feeling the tensely bound muscles there hiding beneath the thick fabric. It must be a cold night in New York City, he thought to himself.

"David," Kurt said a bit louder that time. The gentle shake that he gave Dave was only rewarded wih Dave mumbling something along the lines of  _"Hu-uhhgrt"_  and curling further in upon himself like a petulant child who did not wish to wake up for school. Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes. The amused smile on his face clearly betrayed any irritation.

Letting his hand drift upwards, Kurt caught the edge of Dave's hood and gently tugged it down. He could see Dave's eyebrows furrow momentarily in his sleep. Kurt wondered if some conscious part of Dave knew that Kurt was present or else he was too exhausted from the two hour wait that he was far too gone within a dream; a dream, perhaps, that included him. He shook his head, cutting off his expectant thoughts.

Once the hood was pulled down, Kurt could see that Dave's short, chocolate brown hair was sticking up at odd angles due to the friction caused by the fabric.

"Come on, sleepyhead," Kurt said in a hushed, soothing voice. He raked his fingers through Dave's unruly hair, smoothing down the curls. The strands that caught between the gaps of his fingers were surprising soft, which jarred something within Kurt. This was a detail he wished he could have discovered a long time ago. "Time to wake up."

It was at that moment, as Kurt was essentially massaging a sleeping man's scalp in LaGuardia Airport, that Dave decided to come to in a none too graceful way. Dave jerked awake, eyes wide with confusion as if he somehow forgot where he was at. At the same time, he gave a literal knee-jerk response and kicked out, narrowly missing Kurt who fell back onto the linoleum tile on his bottom, giving a little " _oompf"._

" _Kurt_?" Dave sat up wearily, rubbing a tired eye with a hand and looking down at Kurt who sat slouching where he fell, pouting and looking defeated. This was… Not at all how he expected their reunion to be.

"Hi." The corner of Kurt's mouth twitched into a forced and disheartened smile.

"Scared the crap out of me... Here." He stood up, stretching before he held a hand out to Kurt. Kurt accepted it and let Dave easily pull him up. He brushed off the back of the jeans he was wearing in case he dirtied them.

"Didn't mean to almost knock you out. Thought a hobo was trying to steal my cab money." Kurt couldn't help feeling that Dave's tone was awfully clipped; even for someone who had just woken up.

Kurt waved him off. "I'm fine. I'm just…" He started to explain in a soft voice, before taking in a steadying breath. This was it. This was when he would tell him.

"C'mon. It's late," Dave said, not hearing Kurt whose normally confident, unwavering voice seemed to decrease in amplitude at his first inclination of being nervous. He could sing and dance in front of hundreds of people, no problem, but apparently when it came to confessing his love for someone he was about as meek as a mouse. "Let's get out of here."

The two of them were not far from one of the numerous exits of the airport so Dave took hold of Kurt's suitcase before dragging it in its direction. Kurt followed, almost obediently, behind but continued to stare at Dave as if in the two weeks Kurt was absent he somehow managed to grow a second head. Wasn't he happy to see him? Did he miss him at all during the two weeks he was gone?

"Oh, hey." Dave turned back around after taking only a few steps in the direction of the exit. Kurt looked up, his doe-like eyes wide with hope. With eyelashes a-flutter, Kurt smiled.

"Where's your jacket?" Dave asked with a frown, looking down at what Kurt was wearing. Kurt looked down at himself as well. He wanted to go through the airport gate as smoothly as possible without having to deal with removing belts and accessories, so when he left for the airport that day, he had decided on a short sleeve, olive green button up.

"Why? It's May, and it was ridiculously warm in Lima. Why?" He questioned again.

"It's been raining like mad all day, I… Look it's fine. Here." Dave stood the suitcase up again and quickly pulled the sweatshirt over his head. With the cotton t-shirt he was wearing underneath the sweater, he was no better off than Kurt.

"No," Kurt said, shaking his head. As much as he hated the idea of sopping hair and soggy clothes, he held his hands up to signify that he was not about to take the sweater. "It's fine, David, reall—" But the sweater was already pushed into his hands and Dave already picked up the suitcase by the side handle, so it wouldn't roll into any puddles, and went out the door.

Kurt had no choice but to follow Dave. With a sigh he moved closer to the door and was able to see, despite the overall darkness outside, that there were sprinkles of rain falling onto the pavement as well as the few cars passing by the drop-off/pick-up area outside of the airport. Luckily, there was an awning above the two of them, so they didn't have to worry about getting wet. Yet.

"Hey, taxi!" Dave shouted, throwing his hand into the air. Kurt followed behind Dave, holding onto the warm sweater as he headed in the direction of a cab that just dropped someone off.

Kurt was glad that the rain wasn't coming down so hard that they would be drenched by the time they reached the cab. He watched Dave step out into the rain, which didn't seem to bother him one bit. Kurt observed with mild fascination how the rain did, however, stick to the bare skin of Dave's arms like morning dew on blades of grass.

Before stepping out after Dave, Kurt held the large sweater over his head like a tent to protect his hair, perfectly coiffed as usual, from going flat. Not that it really mattered. It wasn't like they were going anywhere other than their apartment.

As Kurt climbed into the back of the cab, Dave busied himself with putting Kurt's suitcase in the trunk. All the while, his mind continued to race.

Since the night Kurt left, he knew he was in deep shit. All over again, he was falling for this boy-no- _man;_ although a large part of him made him question whether he ever actually stopped (having feelings for him, that is). The icing on the cake had been the look on Kurt's face when he first saw him upon waking up. He seemed so... Distracted. It was only natural for the worse possible scenarios to go through his mind.

Perhaps he ran into Blaine while he was at home. Kurt did say he saw Puckerman. He wouldn't be surprised if Kurt's first boyfriend came back to Ohio during his summer break at UCLA. Kurt had been the one to end it between the two of them during the middle of Kurt's semester. Even if Kurt prompted the break-up, Dave was still the one who had to coax the half-eaten bag of marshmallows out of Kurt's hands after finding him in his dorm, which was littered with used tissues. Maybe Kurt considered rekindling their previous relationship, which could explain why Kurt hardly texted him during his last week in Ohio.

Dave shut the trunk of the cab with a slam. There was no use in thinking about it. It wasn't his business who Kurt did or did not have feelings for. The only thing he had control over was the fact that he was so willing to get caught up in his own overly and uncharacteristically optimistic parallel universe where he just might have a chance in hell with Kurt Hummel. For the second- _no,_ third time, he would find himself in a world of hurt and he'd only have himself to blame. And all over a silly phone call.

Dave crawled into the back of the cab to find that Kurt facing the window. Dave gave the driver the directions to their apartment and from the corner of his eye, he could see Kurt bundling the sweater into a ball and clutching it securely to his chest. He watched Kurt, wondering if he should just say something, anything, if it meant that he could make the despondent look on his face disappear. Kurt, however, only pulled the sweater closer to his body and rested his temple against the cool glass. Dave watched, mesmerized as Kurt's long eyelashes fluttered shut. He couldn't help but wonder if Kurt looked this peaceful, this beautiful, even as he fell asleep to the sound of Dave's voice when there was a state in between them.

Dave knew they were't far from where they lived, but he could already feel himself mirroring Kurt's actions as he felt his eyelids begin to droop shut. He supposed the nearly two hour nap that he had earlier didn't make him feel as refreshed as he hoped he would be. But then again, it was hard to feel rested, especially when his dreams consisted of an ethereal, blue-eyed nymph creature running its fingers through his hair.

 


	5. Part V

Kurt was coaxed awake by the sloshing sound of the cabbie driving through a particularly flooded street. The light drizzle of rain seemed to evolve into a torrential downpour since their drive from LaGuardia. He didn't have to look out the window to know that the rain was coming down from the sky in bucketfuls; little  _tings_ and _tangs_  could be heard as the fat droplets pounded upon the aluminum roof of the vehicle.

Kurt peeled his face away from the cool window, fogged with his warm breath. As he opened his eyes and peered out the water-mottled glass, his suspicions were confirmed. The roads of the ' _City That Never Sleeps'_  were yellow and glassy from the sheet of rain and the glow of the streetlamps. Times Square was less crowded than what was normal for a Saturday night. The few people who weren't taking refuge from the dreary weather that night by holing themselves up in their lofts and towering apartment buildings drove cautiously on the wet, slippery asphalt. New York seemed a rain cloud away turning into Venice and having to resort to gondolas as a mode of transportation.

As soon as they turned onto their familiar looking block, Kurt could feel the body next to him stirring, as though alerted by some strange circadian rhythm that they were almost home. For the second time that night, Kurt was there to see the peaceful, sleeping form of Dave—very much personifying the nickname, Bear Cub, he earned years ago—awaken from his slumber.

Dave, too, must have realized how much harder it was raining, as well. From his peripheral vision, Kurt could see Dave—face partly illuminated from the artificial lights and the other half cast in a dark shadow—turn from looking out the window at the miserable-looking streets to see if he was awake as well. Upon realizing that Dave was fully conscious, Kurt looked down pointedly at the bundled sweater in his lap so Dave wouldn't discover how he was just watching him.

"You should put than on," Dave mumbled groggily as the cab crawled to an even slower pace as it drifted to the curb. "Seems silly to not put it to good use."

Kurt had half a mind to tell Dave that it was his sweater, and, therefore, he should be the one to wear it, not him; however, Kurt was far too burdened by the way Dave's words made his insides swoop like they did during the heavy turbulence while flying over Harrisburg.  _That_ , and he knew he and Dave were both too tired to bicker about something as pointless as who would be the one to keep drier than the other when they were both, undoubtedly, going to get wet.

As they pulled to a stop, Kurt complied with Dave's suggestion. The rain was bound to be cold and holding the sweater over his head like he did at the airport wouldn't be very effective now. As Dave pulled out his wallet to pay what was on the meter, Kurt slipped his arms into the toasty furnace that was Dave's sweater and pulled it over his head.

The first thing that came to his mind was  _God,_  did it smell  _good_. The mixture of the stale, damp rain, laundry softener and the subtle spice of Dave's aftershave… It didn't just smell like  _Dave_. It smelt like  _home_.

As Dave handed over the cash, muttering "good night" and "drive safe" to the driver, Kurt pulled the hood over his head and sighed. He knew, even with the sweater, there was no way around getting drenched unless he stayed in the cab, which wasn't an option. Dave was already stepping out onto the curb and Kurt didn't have much choice but to follow suit. As Kurt flung open his door the only difference between he and Dave was the fact that  _he_  did not have a sidewalk to step out on… Only a giant puddle.

Kurt cringed, slamming the door shut as his foot dipped into the two inches of water. The water felt like the cold hand of a corpse as it seeped into his shoe, completely soaking his sock.

"You comin'?" Blinking as the water clung to his lashes, Kurt peered through the rain and the darkness searching for Dave. He finally spotted him, suitcase in hand and waiting for him at the threshold of their apartment. Dazed slightly from the cold permeating his clothes, Kurt hurried to the building with his head down and shoulders scrunched up revealing his obvious distaste in regards to the horrible weather. In his effort to get to Dave, who was holding the door for him, Kurt only succeeded in soaking his other pant leg as he trampled and splashed through the puddles on the sidewalk.

As soon as Kurt was inside the lobby, he shook his head not at all unlike a wet dog. He gave a quick once over to his carry-on bag, silently thanking the fashion experts for waterproof materials. He made a burring sound as Dave shut the door behind them and almost immediately the two boys were enveloped in a dry warmth that somewhat alleviated the goosebumps underneath his clothes that were clinging to him like a second skin.

Kurt walked towards the elevator and could hear the squishing sound of Dave following behind him. Shivering on the spot, he furiously pushed the  _Up_ button on the elevator. They didn't say anything to each other. Both of their moods were far too dampened by the fact that they were almost completely soaked after only a few seconds of being in the rain.

Finally, the doors of the elevator opened and Kurt shuffled in, followed by Dave. As the doors closed behind them Dave sat the suitcase right side up and Kurt pressed the  _5_  on the left of the metallic doors. The silence in that small four-by-four contraption was palpable aside from the gentle drip of water. Ever so slowly, Kurt, whose face was partly concealed by the hood of the sweater, turned his head to look at Dave. A pair of warm hazel eyes met with his and Kurt could feel himself heat up from the inside out. His breath caught as Dave seemed to be fighting the smile that was threatening to break out on his face. Dave was dripping wet and in far worse state than Kurt considering the fact that he gave his only protection from the rain to him. His hair stuck to his forehead in curls and he bowed his head with his eyes shut, crinkling at the corners in mirth.

"What's so funny?" Kurt demanded. Dave only raised a hand—where water was slipping down his fingertips—and rubbed his face while making a grimace. "Tell me."

Dave turned his head, looking Kurt up and down. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?"

Kurt looked down at himself and as much as he wanted to completely disagree with Dave, he couldn't help wondering what his seventeen year old version of himself would think if he saw himself in this state.

Dave's sweater, being two or three sizes too big for Kurt, completely concealed his hands. Kurt was thankful for the fact that he was wearing one of his looser pairs of jeans. He couldn't imagine how uncomfortable drenched skinny jeans would feel. Kurt had to wonder at what point in time he decided to do away with his "no point in leaving the house when the there's a chance of rain" rule. Kurt sighed, just grateful that he dressed down today.

"So much for the sweater," Kurt said, rolling his eyes as he squeezed the fabric that went past his hands. As he wrung out the sleeve, Kurt looked down to see the water fall into his own little puddle.

Quite suddenly it seemed as though the dam holding back Dave's laughter burst much like the clouds in the sky, which were only able to hold so much of the rain before giving up. Dave steadied himself against the side bar of the elevator as he let out his deep chuckle; a sound that Kurt always found to be incredibly contagious. Kurt giggled, holding the wet sleeve, though not nearly as water-logged as before, to his mouth. He couldn't help joining in.

And that's when the elevator ride felt very sad.

Kurt couldn't imagine what the past semester would have been like had he and Dave not moved in together. In fact, he could hardly stand to remember what his first three semesters of living in his little dorm felt like.

What he and Dave had… It was  _special_. It was years of self-hatred and torment, forgiveness and understanding, and finally respect and friendship rolled into what felt like some metaphorical sushi roll of emotions. And the moments that occurred the past two weeks—the phone call, the talk with his dad—it felt like final point, the apex in his relationship with Dave. The sushi roll, after all that preparation, being dipped in the wasabi.

Kurt wasn't sure if he was ready to risk all that he—that they both—worked for if it meant there was a slight possiblitity that it would all be thrown away.

Although he was safe to say that quitting his job at the restaurant was a good idea, because where on earth were these food metaphors coming from?

The elevator chimed, signaling the arrival to their floor. Dave sighed and wiped his eye; because of a tear from laughing or the rainwater, Kurt wasn't sure.

The doors opened and Kurt followed Dave out this time. As Dave reached into his pocket to pull out his jingling keys, Kurt thought of his nice warm bed waiting for him just down the hall. Pretty soon, he would be able to strip off his uncomfortable clothing and burrow underneath his thick comforter and curl up on his pillow top mattress.

"Home sweet home." Dave seemed to be stating this phrase rather than asking it, but Kurt couldn't help but respond to him as if it were a direct question.

"You have no idea." Kurt said softly as they came upon their door. Dave stuck his key into the lock and turned it left and then back into the center. When Dave pulled the door open and they went inside, only to be submerged into total darkness. Kurt felt around the wall until his hand came in contact with two light switches. Kurt flicked on the left one, which was only a hallway light, next to Kurt's room and the front door. There was no point in turning on all the lights when they were only going to be going to sleep.

"Where do you want me to put this?" Dave asked, referring to Kurt's suitcase. Kurt motioned to the tiled area where they were already standing and where they kept their shoes.

"You can just leave it here," Kurt said as he slipped off his shoes. "I'll deal with it tomorrow."

Dave sat it down and proceeded to take off his shoes as well. Once Kurt had his shoes and socks off, he carefully tiptoed to his bedroom and opened the door. Once he was in the threshold of his bedroom, he faced Dave.

"So, um…" Kurt stuttered as he toyed with the door handle, looking down. "I'm kind of tired, so I think I'm just going to change and go back to bed. I had a full day." Kurt knew this was a lie. Aside from the rain, the flight from Columbus, and the two hour delay, the rest of the day was spent lazing around the house with his dad, Finn, and Carole before he had to leave.

"Yeah," Dave said as he pulled his sneaker off. He gave Kurt a smile that Kurt could barely make out in the dim yellow light at their ankles. "It's fine. I'll see you in the morning , then?"

"Of course," Kurt returned the smile meekly before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Almost all signs of the exuberance from the uninhibited laughter they experienced just moments ago seemed to have vanished from Kurt's face. As Dave watched Kurt retreat into his bedroom looking rather forlorn, he couldn't say whether this was any better than watching Kurt walk away from him when he had to catch his flight two weeks ago. Dave couldn't begin to imagine what had changed between them and he hoped that, whatever it was, he could fix it.


	6. Part VI

As soon as he was out of view, Kurt leaned against the door and covered his face with his hands, masking the groan that slipped past his lips.

This was  _ridiculous_. Just because he had feelings for Dave didn't mean he had to act like a shy schoolgirl around him. Hell… When Dave realized he had feelings for  _him_ , he dressed up in a gorilla suit and anonymously delivered gifts to him for an entire week before confessing his feelings for him in the middle of Breadstix. And Kurt thought  _he_  was courageous.

Kurt dragged himself away from the door, flicking his bedroom light on before pulling the sweater over his head. He hoped that by shedding Dave's sweater he would shed his nagging thoughts about the man. Next came his socks, shirt, pants, and pair of briefs all falling to a sodden heap on the carpet. Kurt shivered as the cool air met his damp skin and he ran a hand through his hair, tousling it out so it wasn't matted from where the sweater covered it. Kurt strode to the closet, door partly slid open, and pulled down his thick blue robe from the hanger where he left it. He slipped it on, reveling in the warmth it provided his freezing body.

As Kurt wrapped it snugly around his waist, he realized he might want to hang his wet clothes up lest they become mildewy. Plus, he still needed to brush his teeth and do his moisturizing routine before he went to sleep. Kurt picked up the clothes and opened the door to his en suite bathroom that also connected to the living room.

When he flicked on the lights, Kurt couldn't help feeling as though Dave had cleaned the apartment that very day before Kurt came home. Everything was particularly shiny-from the linoleum floors to the mirrors and countertops. Shrugging, Kurt padded across the floor to the towel rack above the toilet and draped his jeans and shirt side by side over the bar. Not caring too much about his socks and briefs, he tossed those into the hamper. It was just as he was about to drape Dave's sweater over the shower bar did the second door open.

Kurt turned his head to see Dave with a surprised yet guilty look on his face. He already changed into a clean white shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants. His carried his clothes from that day, bunched up in his hands.

"Oh, God, Kurt." Dave looked away as if he walked in on something more private than Kurt hanging wet clothes up to dry. "I'm sorry I just came in like that. I'll just-" Kurt interrupted him quickly before he could leave.

"It's alright. It's not like I was doing… Anything." He finished lamely. "Just hanging these up."

"Oh, right. That's what I was going to do." He said as he went to the empty towel rack above the light switch. Kurt turned back to Dave's sweater to adjust it.

As Dave hung up his own wet articles of clothing, Kurt went to the sink. He was suddenly grateful that he took a travel toothbrush with him to his dad's so he wouldn't have to rifle through his bag to find it. He grabbed his normal toothbrush out of the cup and wet it before grabbing the toothpaste as Dave sidled up beside him. Dave reached for his toothbrush as Kurt put a stripe of toothpaste on his bristles.

"Mm..." Kurt mumbled with the brush in his mouth, Dave looked at Kurt questioningly as Kurt held out the tube.

"Oh! Thanks," Dave said as he held his brush out allowing Kurt to put some of the paste on the end of his brush. Kurt nodded as Dave put the brush in his mouth, smiling briefly before scrubbing at his back molars.

Kurt nodded minutely, screwing the cap back onto the tube before setting it down. They worked in silence, and Kurt working faster than Dave. As he cleaned his teeth, he did his best to focus solely on the soap dispenser sitting on the counter, rather than the Dave standing next to him and… Well…  _Diagonally_  from him. As they stood side by side, Kurt was far too aware of their reflections in the mirror and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything under his robe.

Once he was sure he went over all of his teeth, Kurt attempted to spit in the sink in what could be considered a  _discreet_  manner. He turned the water on to rinse out the sink as well as to fill his little plastic Dixie cup to rinse his mouth out. After swishing and spitting, Kurt wiped the corner of his mouth on the collar of his robe before affording a furtive glance at Dave's reflection in the mirror, who was still brushing his teeth if not contemplatively.

"Goodnight…  _Again._ " Kurt toyed with the knot at his waist somewhat awkwardly. He clasped his hands in front of him as if he wasn't quite sure what he should do with them—like two foreign objects that didn't belong on his body. When Dave's only response was to spit into the sink, Kurt sighed, defeated. His hand was on the doorframe and he had half a mind to slip into his room unnoticed when a tension, hanging about the air like an unasked question, kept him rooted on the spot. After turning the water on momentarily so that the toothpaste was washed down the sink, he looked into the mirror at Kurt standing behind him before speaking up.

"You going to sleep alright? With the rain and all?" Dave asked casually as he replaced his toothbrush in the holder and reached for his cup.

"Yes…" Kurt said slowly. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe as he watched Dave fill up his cup before swishing the water just as Kurt did. "Why wouldn't I?"

Dave spit one last time before he replied.

"You told me a while back that you had trouble sleeping while it was raining. I just thought I'd ask." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"I told you I used to have trouble sleeping when there's thunder and lightning. I haven't…" Kurt frowned. "When did, um… When did I tell you that, again?"

"Senior year," Dave reminded him, as if confused that Kurt would forget telling Dave such a thing. He turned around to face Kurt, mirroring the way he was standing with his arms crossed. Only he leaned back against the bathroom counter.

"It was a couple days after I… The day I got out of the hospital." Dave cleared his throat as though remembering the day perfectly. "I couldn't fall asleep in my own bed—not with my closet being right _there_. So I called you because I just… I needed to focus on anything that wasn't _where I was_." He chuckled sadly.

"You picked up the phone right away." Kurt couldn't help noticing the misty-eyed look that Dave gave him, as if still surprised by Kurt's willingness to be there for him during his recovery. "I was convinced it was because you still felt guilty about everything thing that happened before. But you assured me that it was because—"

"I wanted to." Kurt interrupted staring vacantly at Dave, as if the words being relayed put him into a trance.

"Yeah," Dave licked his lips. "So I told you what was going on and that's when you told me about how it was still hard for you to fall asleep during a storm; that it's difficult to separate the idea of a storm from your mom. Not after how your dad told you that your mom passed away at the hospital in the middle of the night... And during a storm."

"I was so young. I didn't… Understand. The cancer… For the longest time I thought the storm…" Kurt took a calming breath as he closed his eyes, attempting to will the tears out of them. Even though he thought about his late mother every day, many days had gone by since he thought about that day—both the night when his mom passed away, and the day when Dave  _almost_  did. So it wasn't a surprise why he would forget about telling Dave such a thing.

"Dave, that was almost three years ago."

"I know," he responded gravely.

"You don't even remember the phone number to the place we order pizza from every week." His lame attempt to lighten the serious conversation, apparently. "And you remember…  _That_? Something I told you over the phone in the middle of senior year?" An almost devastated look crossed Kurt's features.

"I guess that's a little bit more important than a phone number, Kurt." Dave huffed rather incredulously before standing up fully.

"Listen. Just… If you need to wake me 'cause you hear something, you know where to find me." And with that, Dave ducked his head and walked out of the bathroom through the other door and Kurt was left standing in the empty bathroom by himself, possibly even more confused than he was before. After listening to the sound of Dave's feet padding across the carpeting of the living room, Kurt finally flung his arm out towards the light switch and flicked it off.

When Kurt slipped back into his room, the first thing he would do was turn those lights off, too, and be submerged in total darkness.

He hastily untied his robe as he carefully made his way between his bed and his dresser, being careful not to stub his toe on the leg. Standing in front of his dresser, he shrugged off the robe and let it slip to the floor. He felt for the handle to the top drawer and pulled it open and randomly grabbed at a pair of briefs and pulled them on to his body that had since dried.

After shutting the drawer, Kurt turned to his bed and pulled at the corner of the comforter, messing up the placement of the pillows, and then slipped in between the sheets. Kurt closed his eyes as he snuggled into the warmth of his bed, but still not feeling as comfortable as he ought to be. He opened his eyes and turned the upper half of his body towards his pillows and smacked them a couple times, attempting to make them fluffier. He laid back down, wiggling around and turning onto his other side before realizing there wasn't much of a chance of him falling asleep. Not with only a couple of walls separating he and Dave, and especially not after the words they just exchanged.

Aside from Finn, Dave was the only other non-relative who Kurt had talked to about his mother, and the only person who had asked about her in genuine curiosity.

Although Kurt thought about his mother every day, tonight was the first time in a rather long time that Kurt thought about her passing, as it wasn't something that he particularly enjoyed thinking about. Rather, he would think about the short period of time he was able to spend with his mother before she passed away when he was eight. He recalled her beauty and exuberance. He remembered how he would help her choose her outfits in the morning and watched as she styled her hair and put on her make-up at her vanity. The loss of a parent was something that Kurt and Dave both had to face at one point in each of their lives. Though Kurt's mother was ripped away from him and Dave's merely walked out the door and out of his life, the results on both of them, as their children, were equally devastating.

But what niggled at the back of Kurt's mind was how Dave remembered this small detail about him from when they were just barely starting to get to know each other. And if this wasn't enough confirmation for Kurt in regards to how Dave felt about him than the phone call that took place the week before, he didn't know what was.

So when Kurt climbed out of bed, slipping his robe back on and tiptoeing in the darkness of the living room in the direction of Dave's, it wasn't because he couldn't sleep.

It was because  _he_  wanted to.

* * *

As Dave crawled into bed, he wasn't sure why he brought up the time when Kurt told him he couldn't sleep through thunderstorms. Storms were a frequent occurrence in New York as much as they were in Ohio and he never seemed to have a problem. Although that might be because when Dave and Kurt decided on their new apartment, Dave let Kurt have the bedroom with the en suite bathroom as it didn't have any windows. A smile twitched on Dave's mouth as his head fell down upon his pillow. While Kurt thought he was just being considerate when it came to his lengthy morning (and night) beauty regime, it was actually for another reason entirely.

With one last look toward the blind-covered arcadia door, Dave could see the rain beyond the balcony that had reduced to a soft spray and he knew there wouldn't be any reason for Kurt to make good on his offer.

With a long night's sleep in mind Dave closed his eyes, hardly aware of the sound of Kurt's door creaking open from the front of their apartment.


	7. Part VII

Kurt could feel the erratic pounding of his heart in his chest as he placed his hand on the surface of the door. The white flesh that stretched across tendon and bone, practically luminescent in the darkness of their apartment, seemed far more innocuous than the blood propelling through his veins—the blood infused with the adrenaline that fueled his incredibly reckless actions that had the potential to have he and Dave's friendship crumbling to the ground.

Kurt attempted to assure himself that there was once a time when Dave risked everything to have a shot with him. While there was so much more at stake this time around, Kurt was adamant that the rewards for his actions could far more surpass the risks. While he knew of the feelings he had for Dave-even at that time-halfway through the middle of senior year wouldn't have been the right time for either of them. Despite the fact that he shot Dave down in the worst possible way (because what person doesn't  _love_  being friendzoned?) Dave surprised Kurt with his classy behavior and complete lack of malice after the rejection. It was Kurt's understanding of the type of person that Dave was that made him all the more hopeful at the prospective success in his endeavor.

Kurt was thankful for the fact that Dave left his door partly ajar. It wasn't habitual, and he had to assume that it had something to do with the events that transpired that evening. From where he stood, Kurt could see the end of Dave's bed, as well as his desk, through the crevice in the door.

With a breath that was meant to be calming, but all too much reminded Kurt of what he was about to do, he slowly pushed the door open. He held his breath as the hinges gave a short-lived groan and watched as the unmoving figure, which was obscured beneath the thick comforter, remained as such.

As Kurt stepped inside Dave's room, he was thankful for his feet, which had become so adept at moving lightly thanks to the choreography he had to learn, practice, and perform week after week. This meant that he was able to remain as quiet as what was realistically possible as he nervously, yet surely, pulled open his robe and let it drop to the floor for the second time that evening, but in an entirely different location.

As Kurt made his way to the unoccupied side of Dave's bed, he was aware of the fact that he couldn't tell if Dave was asleep or not. His eyes were closed, though, and his breathing soft as he lay on his side with one arm underneath the pillow his head rested upon, pulling it close. That was good enough for Kurt, but still enough incentive to not make any noise as he lifted the corner of the comforter and slipped in next to Dave.

The movement of Kurt climbing into Dave's bed did not cause him to stir the slightest. Kurt wondered how it was possible for anyone to fall asleep as quickly and as deeply as David did. They had only parted ways less than ten minutes ago, and his breathing was already soft and labored. It reminded Kurt of the times when Dave would fall asleep on the couch while they were watching a movie together. One minute, the two of them could be laughing at a funny scene, and a few minutes later Kurt would look at Dave only to find him already passed out, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

Kurt snuggled deeper into the sheets that felt as warm and smelt as good as the man lying next to him. As Dave slept peacefully, Kurt couldn't help feeling torn between either watching Dave sleep until sunrise or…  _Well_ … Kurt wasn't too sure about the second option, but he did know that all he wanted was to be close to Dave, whatever that may entail.

After mulling over the two options, Kurt's mind seemed to settle on a lesser of the two extremes. Without thinking too much of it, Kurt tentatively reached out and splayed his hand across Dave's back. His hand trailed down, wandering through the valley that was the space between Dave's pinched shoulder blades. Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat as his fingers traced about the unseen knots and firm muscles concealed beneath the comforter and the fabric of Dave's shirt. He wondered if the actions that he was currently indulging in were what he had denied Dave of for all the months that they lived together. Kurt only arrived back home today, and he already felt as though he would go insane from not acting on what felt so instinctual and natural. Was this what it felt like for Dave since the beginning of their friendship? That Kurt, during all this time, was so close, yet so far away? As Dave began to mumble and shift in his sleep, Kurt hoped that maybe that could change tonight.

"Mmm…" Kurt pulled his hand away at the muffled sound of Dave waking up.

"Kurt?" As it turned out, Dave wasn't in nearly as deep a sleep as Kurt suspected him to be. Kurt's eyes grew wide with anticipation as Dave sat up and twisted around in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a hand as he faced Kurt.

"What are you doing?" Dave asked groggily. Whether he was questioning why Kurt was in his bed or why he was practically caressing his back in his sleep, Kurt didn't know. Kurt could see a sliver of his face as it was drenched in light. Dave's brows were furrowed in confusion. As Kurt lay frozen on his side, gripping the comforter securely to his body, he realized that he didn't put much thought in to what he planned on saying to Dave. In fact, he didn't put much thought into this at  _all_. At this point, as his throat was beginning to feel more and more like a boa constrictor was wrapped around it, Kurt wondered if this was what it felt like to forget your lines while on stage. Perhaps if this were to happen to him with an audience of people watching him, and not just Dave, he wouldn't be half as nervous. The only thing that Kurt could think of saying was the one thing that had been weighing on his mind all this time.

"You changed the lyrics," Kurt managed to choke out. Before he could berate himself for being such a coward, he saw the slightest inclination of Dave's head; his expression however, stayed the same.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt heard the slight rise in Dave's voice.

"That song you sang to me. You changed the lyrics," Kurt said breathily. He was pretty sure he looked like a deer in headlights. "Did… You change them for a reason?" Kurt attempted to ask nonchalantly, but the fact that he snuck into Dave's bedroom while he was asleep gave some indication that he cared at least a little bit about what Dave had to say on the matter. When Kurt finished, Dave was already shaking his head like he couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"It didn't mean anything, Kurt," he said as he adjusted the pillow, fluffing it (although Kurt couldn't call it  _fluffing,_  more like attempting to pound the stuffing out of it). Kurt had to believe that he was trying to keep busy in order to prevent himself from glancing at the anguished look on his face upon hearing his explanation.

"Maybe I just forgot how the song went and said  _blue_ eyes instead of  _brown_." Dave dropped his head back down on the pillow almost stubbornly, facing away from Kurt once more. Kurt could swear that he had his arms crossed.

"Why does it even matter?" Dave finished softly. "It was just a stupid song."

Though Dave lay unmoving next to Kurt, it seemed as though he was waiting for the real answer to come to him, as well.

"It must matter to you," Kurt whispered brokenly, as if to supply Dave of that answer. It sounded as though he was trying to convince  _Dave_ as much as he was trying to convince  _himself._

He pressed his hand into the mattress to prop himself up. The comforter slipped past his shoulder and down his naked torso to fall upon his waist as he did so. Kurt hoped that he would be able to read Dave's expression—that it would give him some reason to believe that he was lying—but if Dave were to turn around, he would have encountered the expanse of Kurt's pale chest, which caught the moonlight.

"It mattered to me," Kurt supplied in an afterthought. That song was all he listened to since the night Dave sang it to him. He hoped that this acknowledgement would prompt Dave to change his mind, but the only thing that Kurt could make out was the white of Dave's eye that disappeared as he slowly clenched the pair of them shut.

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed in aggravation as his mouth drew into a thin line. He fell back down on the mattress, plopping on his back with a huff as he pulled the edge of the comforter over his head in a childlike manner. As he breathed heavily out of his nose, fuming into the darkness that the covering provided, something occurred to him. As the little light bulb went off in his head, he threw his arms up, flinging the thick fabric away from his face before questioning, "If it was such an  _accident_ then why would you remember what words you messed up when I didn't even mention them?"

Dave didn't say anything. The longer the question hung unanswered in the air, the more the breath that Kurt was holding burned his lungs—much like his eyes did with the unshed tears. It was as though he wasn't consciously aware as to what Dave's explanation revealed until now. Dave was aware of the fact that he changed the words to that song and for a reason. He  _had_  to. But why was he making this so difficult? Wasn't this what he wanted since high school? Wasn't this why he kissed him in the locker room during their junior year? Why he gave him all those sweet cards during the week of Valentine's their senior year? Why he brought him flowers after his first big role as Sancho in  _Man of la Mancha_ (just as he did with every other two-bit role Kurt played).

But then Kurt remembered all that had taken place  _after_  those three events. Kurt pushed Dave away from him after he kissed him in the locker room. Instead of helping him and trying to understand what he was going through, he nearly outed him and later fled. He rejected him on Valentine's Day, even when he was having doubts about his and Blaine's relationship. And at his  _performance_ … Kurt couldn't believe how insensitive he was that day. He knew how Dave felt about him. A part of him had always been somewhat cognizant towards the possibility that Dave could still  _feel_ something for him. It would have been so easy to tell Dave that he was seeing one of the guys from his theatre class, at that time. It would have saved Dave a lot of pain from having to see Kurt lip-locking with the other man when Dave came to congratulate Kurt on his outstanding role and the fact that they sold out on opening day.

And Kurt wondered why  _Dave_  was the one being so stubborn this time around? Kurt broke and stepped on Dave's heart time and time again. Why else would he be so tentative when it came to opening up to Kurt, despite their relationship as longtime friends.

"You're scared," Kurt said quite simply as he rolled over to face Dave's back once more. The voice that he heard in his ears did not sound like it came from him, however. It seemed as though it originated from a third, unseen party, as if Kurt couldn't believe he could accuse this strong, silent man beside him of such a thing. But Kurt knew Dave better than that. It wasn't that Dave was weak. He was _just_  as vulnerable, if not far more human, than most people.

"Scared?" Dave scoffed, turning his head slightly as if it would help him hear Kurt better. His voice was thick with false bravado, like he knew that there was some amount of truth to Kurt's simple statement. "What do I have to be scared of?" He let his head fall back down.

"I've hurt you, Dave… And on more than one occasion. I've been so insensitive." Kurt sniffed as he rubbed his nose with the hand that wasn't clinging to the back of Dave's t-shirt. Kurt wondered when his hand found its way back to him.

Kurt paused during his speech as he gave a wet laugh, which filled the silence.

"Sometimes I wonder how someone as stupid as me could get into a school like NYADA." Kurt rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan above them was lifeless and unmoving, unlike Dave who shifted as though he was ready to interrupt Kurt. As though, despite the obvious stubbornness of not wanting to give Kurt the satisfaction of knowing he was getting through to him, he still wasn't prepared to let him have all the guilt. But Kurt continued before Dave could interject.

"I've been so blind. Too blind to realize the amazing man who has been right in front of me— _lying next to me_ —all this time."

Kurt pulled the comforter to his chin as he shut his eyes tightly; as if, by doing so, it would stop the floodgate of emotions he was about to release. While his eyes were shut, though, he felt the unmistakable dip in the mattress as Dave rolled over to face him.

"Kurt?" Dave asked once again in a voice more confused and probing than the concerned voice he used when he realized that Kurt was in bed with him.

"I know how scared you are, David," Kurt acknowledged in a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes once more and turned towards Dave, moving back to his side. His field of vision cleared as two tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, and he was surprised to see how close Dave was lying next to him. They were practically nose to nose.

He continued, "And I'm sure some part of you is beating yourself up over the fact that you would think to change the lyrics to a song so that it would fit me." A few more fat tears leaked from Kurt's eyes, falling onto the pillow and dripping into his hair. As Kurt wiped at his face, Dave finally spoke up.

"Why are you doing this?" He questioned softly.

Kurt closed his eyes as he drew a deep breath before answering, as his blue eyes met Dave's brown, "Because I don't want you to be.  _Scared_ ," he added. "I don't want you to wonder the next time I go out with a guy if he is going to be the one who convince me to move in with him." Kurt's already naturally high-pitched voice rose a semitone. "Whether he will be the one to sweep me off my feet. Because you already  _have_." Tears were flowing freely from his eyes, and he raised a shaking hand to his face to conceal the mess that he had turned into. "I don't want there to be other guys. I want it to be ' _us'_ , like it's always been us. I only want you…" as Kurt rattled on his tearful confession, he noticed how Dave went very still, and his face seemed to go slack at his words. Dave's reaction shook him to his core, as if he made a severe lapse in judgment and read all of the signs wrong.

"And… And if I'm wrong about all of this and you stopped having feelings for me a long time ago, that's okay. I know how much I've hurt you, and I would deserve it if you were to kick me out right—" Quite suddenly, Kurt could see the pair of hands reaching out for him, only to feel them cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer. Kurt might have been intoxicated with the feel of Dave's cool hands encasing either of his hot, tear-stained cheeks, as well as the fact that his head was swimming with the smell and sounds of Dave that it took him a moment to notice the touch; the touch of a pair of soft, thin lips pressing firmly against his, silencing his tirade.

The kiss was over as soon as Kurt realized it was even  _happening,_  and Dave pulled away. Kurt, whose eyes were wide and as gaping as his mouth, saw Dave's hands snap away from his face as if the blood that rushed to his cheeks burned his skin. The kiss had taken Kurt so much by surprise that his head pounded, as if all of the functions of his brain stopped purely so it could comprehend the fact that Dave just kissed him.

"I should probably stop doing that," Dave admitted softly and in a fearful tone, and Kurt knew exactly what he was referring to. It was as if Kurt didn't just make clear of his feelings for Dave just seconds ago.

"Or…" Kurt gulped. "You could do the opposite and kiss me again." His voice was thick and raspy with emotion and he never broke eye contact with Dave.

"Okay," Dave breathed. His eyes, Kurt could tell, were glazed over. Although he gave Dave permission, Kurt was the one to launch himself at the other.

His hands clutched at the front of Dave's shirt, curling into fists, as Dave's enthusiastic mouth found his again. Dave's arms, which slipped beneath the covers, made to circle around the small of Kurt's back to drag him closer. Kurt groaned as what felt like little, fiery trails erupted underneath his skin wherever Dave's skin grazed his. As if shocked by the supposed missing layer between them, Dave pulled back causing Kurt's mouth to chase his. His hand, however, relocated to rest on top of his slight waist, causing his stomach to tingle and neck to flush at the idea of Dave's hands roaming the normally concealed areas of his body.

"You're…" Kurt's eyes opened a crack and he saw the bobbing of Dave's throat as he swallowed thickly. Dave's breath was hot upon his face. "Jesus, what are you wearing?"

"Boxer briefs," Kurt supplied quickly, his mind in overdrive. "I didn't exactly think this through."

Kurt could feel Dave's hand squeeze gently at his waist, his thumb trailing over the jut of his hip bone. He laughed lightly, which eased Kurt's mind somewhat.

"You really didn't have to," Dave said in turn as he completed the motion he set out to do before. He pulled Kurt flush against his body underneath the covers and latched his mouth to Kurt's pulse point. Kurt' head bowed backwards into the pillow to give Dave more access to his throat and found his hands traveling upwards from Dave's back to the base of his skull where his fingers wound themselves into his hair.

"Oh God, David," Kurt practically choked on the gasped plea, positively in awe of how good Dave felt pressed against him. He had only slept with a handful of guys, but now, as he lay next to Dave, he understood what it was that he had been missing.

He  _knew_  Dave. While he couldn't say that the men he had sex with previously were strangers, there was some level of anonymity when it came to many of those said relations.

Dave was as connected to Kurt's past as he was his present and future. They had grown so much, together and apart, to get to where they were today (apparently that meant under Dave's sheets with their legs tangled with each other). Kurt couldn't lie about how much he enjoyed the escape of sleeping with someone who knew nothing of his life in Lima, but there was something equally exhilarating and terrifying about the fact that Dave knew so much about Kurt's history as it was infinitely entwined with his own. It was as though this moment was the culmination of all of their trials and tribulations; he only hoped this didn't have to be the epic conclusion. But Kurt knew, that if by some horrible act of fate that whatever this was spontaneous tryst turned out to be, Kurt couldn't imagine Dave not being a part of his  _future._

As Dave pulled away from his neck, Kurt became aware of four things: The fact that Dave was very much on top of him, the hard-on pressing against his thigh as well as the hard-on straining against the cotton of his snug boxer briefs, and the fact that Dave was wearing far too many articles of clothing.

"Off," Kurt demanded, his voice remarkably steady. He yanked on the hem of Dave's t-shirt. "You need to take this off." Without batting an eye, Dave pulled the shirt over his head and threw it on the floor beside the bed. As Dave made to resume making out with Kurt again, Kurt stopped him.

"These too," Kurt said as his hands moved to the tie of his pajama pants. Dave chuckled, his hand covering Kurt's as he sat up.

"Hey," Dave said softly as he brought Kurt's hands up to his face. With a smirk, he kissed Kurt's knuckles and the fluttering of the butterflies in Kurt's stomach felt like they relocated to his heart, as corny as that sounded. Slowly, Dave slid his hands to Kurt's wrists where he slowly brought them up over his head placing them gently on the pillow. Kurt sighed, his eyelashes fluttering sporadically as Dave let his hands travel back down, gliding over Kurt's arms until they were on either side of Kurt's ribcage. "We've got all night."

Kurt resisted the urge to giggle at the feeling of Dave's hands on what he could consider one of the most ticklish places of his body. Holding back this reaction, he felt his skin prickle with goosebumps and he realized how pleasurable this sensation was. Kurt bit his lip, closing his eyes as he tried not to undulate against Dave.

"What happened to you being tired?"

"If you had a hot roommate that just crawled into bed with you, I'm sure you'd wake up pretty quickly too.

"Nice to know that I've been demoted to 'roommate', but I'm pretty sure that could be arranged."

Dave blinked as he realized what Kurt was hinting. The corner of his mouth twitched up and his keen eyes softened.

"You think I'm hot." Dave teased. He squinted his eyes knowingly. Kurt rolled his.

"Maybe." Kurt rested his hands flat upon Dave's stomach. "Now can you take your pants off?" Kurt whined.

"Not yet." Dave said. "I want to look at you."

As Dave sat up, he pulled the edge of the comforter away from their bodies, pushing it off to the side of the bed where it would be out of their way. When Dave looked back down at Kurt's nearly naked body, Kurt couldn't help feeling extremely exposed and entirely self-conscious, which wasn't something he felt since high school. Dave, however, was quick to put those insecurities-of whether he was sexy enough, too feminine, or if he was a dud in bed due to the fact that he only lay there nervously, leaning back on his elbows as Dave stared at him-to bed.

"You… Are _so_  fucking gorgeous," Dave said as his hands slid down his waist again, admiring his pale, lithe body.

"Oh…" Kurt sighed, both in response to Dave's statement as well as the feeling of his hands gripping his sides. He let his head fall back again. "But you've seen me like this before." Kurt pointed out. It wasn't like neither of them walked around the apartment completely clothed all the time. Especially during the middle of summer when the sun shined right onto the side of their apartment. Walking around in only shorts was a bit of a given.

Dave scooted back farther between Kurt's legs, letting his hand travel down the toned muscles of this thigh as well.

" _Mmm_ … Doesn't count." He mused contemplatively. "I was trying too hard not to look at you," Dave reminisced, hovering over Kurt's taut stomach. He lowered his head, letting his nose and his lips travel over the dip in Kurt's stomach that traveled to his belly button. "Right now, though...? I'm finding it kind of hard to keep my hands off of you."

With every seductive murmur and ghost of a breath from Dave upon his skin, Kurt could feel himself growing impossibly harder. It didn't help that Dave's hands were right there, on the elastic of his briefs. Kurt couldn't believe this was happening. He and Dave... They were going to have  _sex._

"Only if you want to," Dave said, and Kurt realized that his last thought must have been said aloud. It was as though Dave was under the impression that this was the last thing Kurt wanted, which was ridiculous because it was the  _only_  thing he wanted. Without saying a word, Kurt nodded his head eagerly.

"You sure changed your mind fast," Dave said, but Kurt couldn't let him know that there was nothing to change his mind  _on_. He's imagined, on more than one occasion, what sex with Dave could be like. It was one of the few things on his mind his last week in Lima and he practically premeditated having sex with Dave by showing up in the middle of the night wearing next to nothing. But there was no way for Kurt to tell him this as he had to bite his lip to stop from crying out as Dave firmly rubbed his hand against Kurt's bulge through the fabric.

"Fuck." Kurt heard Dave curse, as if his reaction, alone, was the hottest thing he's ever seen. Everything else except the feeling of Dave's hand, dragging insistently over the thin material, was non-existent to Kurt. It was all that Kurt could think of, with his eyes closed and mouth wantonly falling open as he gasped for breath. He might as well be a mere sensation floating in space rather than a tangible person lying on a mattress.

But then that feeling stopped, only to be replaced with a dull throbbing, as Dave removed his hand from where it was cupping Kurt's erection. As Kurt opened his eyes to see where Dave got to, he cried helplessly, only wanting Dave to come back to him. Dave was standing, dropping his pajamas down to the ground, when Kurt reached out to him.

"C'mere," Kurt said softly. Dave, who had his hands on the elastic of his own briefs, looked at Kurt curiously. " _Please_."

"It's alright. I'm not going anywhere," Dave soothed him as he crawled back into bed. Once Dave was lying down next to Kurt again, Kurt scooted over towards him and Dave, much to Kurt's relief, pulled him close. Kurt tilted his head so that he could kiss Dave once more. Kurt moaned against Dave's lips, which allowed Dave to slip his tongue into the wet heat of his mouth. Kurt groaned as he flung his leg around Dave's hip and he carefully pushed the larger man on to his back. Dave conceded in Kurt's ministrations as he crawled on top of him, never breaking the kiss. His own slick tongue gently prodded Dave's.

"Fuck," Dave hissed again as they broke their kiss and Kurt could feel his cock pressing against him. Kurt shivered as Dave's hands slid down his obliques to squeeze his ass. Kurt undulated his hips flagrantly against Dave's from where he sat on top of him and Dave bent his legs in order to better support Kurt who was grinding shamelessly against him.

Kurt could feel his heart racing as Dave met with Kurt's thrusts, using his grip on Kurt's ass to keep him pressed firmly against him. Kurt, whose hands were squeezing at Dave's pecs to keep himself upright, let his arms slide down, slipping around Dave's shoulders and holding him close enough to hear Dave's own rapid heartbeat.

"So close," Kurt whispered as their movements became more careless and urgent until, pretty soon Kurt could feel the familiar tightening sensation in his balls. As Dave continued to move against him, Kurt buried his head in the juncture between Dave's neck and shoulder, muffling the wracked sob that escaped his lips. As Kurt lay very still, feeling his cock pulse between him and Dave, he could feeling the tightening of Dave's arms around his waist as he shuddered beneath him, trying to catch his breath.

Cringing at the feel of the sticky mess in his boxers, he slid off of Dave, occupying the side of the bed that Dave was lying on when Kurt first entered Dave's bedroom.

"Hey," Dave said softly, finding his voice. Kurt blinked as he felt the hands cup either side of his face again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt said, embarrassed. As he made to duck his head to wipe the tears-that he only just realized were on his face-away, Dave beat him to it and he wiped away at the tracks with the back of his hand. "God, I probably look like a mess. I, um... You should know, I don't usually get this emotional during sex. It's just that... It's you and..." Kurt touched his hand to his forehead, hoping that would shut himself up.

"I'm sorry if it wasn't exactly what you were expecting," Dave said guiltily, as if it were his fault that they never did get around to taking their boxers off. He reached around Kurt for the comforter and pulled it over their bodies.

"No, it was perfect," Kurt assured him, his eyes growing soft at Dave's sudden meekness. "I wasn't expecting  _anything_ to happen when I climbed into your bed." Kurt let his fingers stroke over the light hair that was scattered over Dave's chest.

"But I  _was_  hoping to be close to you, and you gave that to me," Kurt divulged softly. "We'll have plenty of opportunities in the future to try... _Other_  things."

"You mean you want to do this again?" Dave seemed surprised

"Mhmm..." Kurt tilted his head, studying Dave. "But I think I want  _more_  than that."

"Like... You want us to be a  _couple_?"

"Do  _you_?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Dave chuckled.

"I don't know." Dave said, looking up and pushing a strand of Kurt's hair away from his eyes fondly. The proud smile on his face led Kurt to believe that the simple action was something he wanted to do for so long. "Seems like we're moving a little fast, aren't we?"

"I think we should be used to moving backwards in our relationship by now. Let's see... We've already met each others parents. Well... _Parent_." Kurt corrected himself, referring to the fact that he never had the  _pleasure_  of meeting the former Mrs. Karofsky, as well as the fact that Carole, as great a step-mom as she was, wasn't technically his real mother. "So I guess next on the list would be... To go out on a date?"

"Mmm... That right?" Dave asked, amused and pulling Kurt closer.

"Yup. I'll have to make you work for it next time," he joked.

For a few moments, Kurt and Dave laid in bed, silent except for the soft hums Kurt emitted whenever Dave would run his hands through Kurt hair or place random, soft kisses upon his face.

"Aren't you tired at all?" Kurt asked with his eyes closed as Dave pressed a rather lingering kiss upon Kurt's forehead.

"Not really," Dave said rather contently; as if staying awake to watch  _Kurt_  sleep was a far better option.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" Kurt asked sleepily as he nuzzled against Dave's chest. Dave seemed to consider the options.

"Sing me something," Dave said seriously."To help me fall asleep?" Kurt looked up at him knowingly as the words were the same as those Kurt asked of Dave less than two weeks ago.

And Kurt did sing to him; a song far too familiar to both of them. And Dave held Kurt close while watching as he groggily mumbled the last few lines. Kurt's voice, though thick with sleep, was as angelic as any other time Dave heard him sing while on stage, and Dave couldn't keep the serene smile from stretching across his face when Kurt left the last few lyrics unchanged.

Dave  _did_  have brown eyes, after all...


	8. Epilogue

When Dave woke up the next morning, he was blissfully aware of the arms wrapped loosely around his torso from behind.  _This_ , and the fact that Kurt made Dave his little spoon, compensated for the rude awakening he received as he opened his eyes and was greeted by the harsh morning sun as it streamed through the vertical breaks in the blinds. But then, Dave smiled to himself in the silent dawn that seemed to exist only within the four walls of his bedroom. Everything of importance could be found within the four corners of his bed.

Dave inhaled as he closed his eyes once more, the smile lingering on his lips. As he traced little unseen routes on Kurt's forearm, through the fine hairs that were dusted there, he could feel the way that the pointed tip of Kurt's nose was touching the back of his neck, as well as the little puffs of air that Kurt exhaled, which tickled his spine.

Everything in that very moment was  _real_ , as much as he was tempted to convince himself otherwise; that this was just a dream and, soon enough, his alarm clock would sound and jerk him awake.

Dave let his hand trail up the arm until Kurt's fingers slid alongside his, grazing the remarkably soft skin concealed there. With their fingers intertwined, Dave gently tugged Kurt's arm up his chest—as not to wake him—until their knuckles, alternating side by side with one another, were level with his face.

With his eyes still closed, he kissed their knuckles. He marveled at the way he could tell where his ended and where Kurt's began, and only with the skin of his lips. The spaces between his fingers, where he couldn't feel his own warm breath, were occupied by Kurt's. If it wasn't for the dramatic difference in the texture of their skin—Dave's being rough and careworn from another semester of football and Kurt's silky smooth from his incessant need to moisturize—he would have no way of knowing what it was stopping them from being one single entity, complete with two heartbeats that thrummed, oddly enough, in unison.

As Dave held Kurt's hand, trapped in between his own hand and his chest, he could hear Kurt emit a soft moan before pulling his hand away, much to Dave's chagrin. Instead of moving it away entirely, however, Kurt slid it back to his hip and Dave could feel Kurt's stare burning into the back of his head.

"I know you're awake," Kurt said blearily, and Dave could feel him snuggle closer.

Dave made a noncommittal grunt of denial, which only made Kurt chuckle. He felt the mattress dip slightly as Kurt pulled away, and he tugged lightly on Dave's hip as he did so. Dave turned over in bed obediently. Once he was facing Kurt, their bodies mirroring each others under the covers, it was to find the other man looking at him shyly with the covers pulled up to his chin.

"Hi," Kurt said a little breathlessly.

"Hey, you." Kurt seemed to visibly relax at Dave's warm greeting. It was as if he was expecting Dave to throw him out as soon as he was conscious.

_He would do no such thing._

Dave narrowed his eyes playfully and cocked his head slightly, so it nestled itself further in the pillow, as he studied Kurt.

"You're thinking too much," Dave pointed out. Though he seemed to have relaxed to some extent, there was still a hint of worry in Kurt's eyes, which were darting back and forth as they searched Dave's face. Dave's hand slipped out from where it was concealed between them and he laid it upon Kurt's cheek. With a lazy smirk, he craned his neck and leaned in closer. He was certain that he heard Kurt let out a little sigh as his hand slid through the stands of his tousled, sleep-mussed hair. Kurt's eyelids drooped lazily at the touch, and when Dave saw those blue eyes disappear, he shut his own. When he leaned in and his lips met with Kurt's, they were as soft and as warm as he remembered from the night before; only this time, there was no rush. Every ounce of adoration that was saved for Kurt was poured into the kiss that would have embittered the likes of Clark Gable, himself. There was no room for Kurt to start having any misgivings in regards to the night before, and now was a better time than any for Dave to eliminate them.

 _"Don't_?" Though the one word he added, when he pulled away from Kurt, was calm and resolute, it was still posed in the form of a question; as though he was asking Kurt to trust the feelings that they surrendered to.

Kurt stared at Dave with a myriad of emotions crossing his features, obviously paying no mind to Dave's request. He flattened his palms out over Dave's chest far too resolutely.

"About last night..." Kurt started softly, his eyes downcast. Dave was pretty sure he could feel his heart drop into his stomach. This was  _it_. This was going to be the end of this little thing between him and Kurt.

Dave looked up to see Kurt staring at him sympathetically. Though he was far too gone from getting his hopes up, it was fun while it lasted. It was better that Kurt ended it now as opposed to their relationship being damaged beyond repair.

At least Kurt would be letting him off easily.

Dave opened his mouth to say something, anything that could get Kurt to change his mind, but he came up empty. He only licked his lips as he waited for Kurt to deliver his final verdict.

" _Now_  who's thinking too much?" Kurt asked, his voice invading Dave's thoughts. Kurt's eyes were sad, despite the smile gracing his lips. Kurt took a breath and Dave hated himself for still liking Kurt's flair for the dramatic in spite of the fact that he was already preparing himself for a world of heartbreak. He wished Kurt would just hurry up and put him out of his misery.

"Last night was  _perfect_ , David," Kurt said, convincingly, his voice soft and clear, like a breath of fresh air when taking the first steps outside each morning, and Dave was sure he never heard any words as beautiful as those. With Kurt's calming stare, Dave could feel his pulse return to somewhat normal, though he couldn't say he was any less confused. Of course it was perfect to him, as well. It was  _Kurt_. The reality of being so close to Kurt—feeling the hot press of skin against skin, the sounds of Kurt's gasps relaying in his mind like a track from a CD set on infinite repeat, the high as he came down from his orgasm and realizing that he was the sole reason for Kurt's own sweet release—was better than anything beyond the scope of Dave's imagination.

"I meant what I said last night. It wasn't just the post-orgasmic haze talking," Kurt blushed lightly. "Being  _close_  to you like that, after being away for so long... There are no words to describe it…" He looked up at Dave, eyes innocent. "I never felt more at home." He paused for a beat, studying Dave curiously (more than likely due to Dave's dumbfounded expression), before laughing worriedly, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just can't believe it." Dave shook his head slowly.

"Well... You better get used to it," Kurt said, looking up through his eyelashes at Dave, and then in a serious tone added, "We're going to have to discuss our living arrangements. Your bed is awfully comfy."

"Leave your en suite bathroom?" Dave faked a gasp. "How will you ever cope?"

"Hey." Kurt poked at his chest. "I didn't say anything about me leaving my room. What do you say to redecorating?" Dave smiled fondly at Kurt's enthusiasm. He was certain the bright grin on Kurt's face was enough to rival the sun. "We can turn one of the rooms into a guest bedroom. That way if any of our family members decide they want to come to New York, they will have a place to stay.  _Oh!_  I can finally have my own bed and breakfast." Kurt clapped his hands together.

Dave could only shake his head and laugh as Kurt hugged him around the middle and catching Dave by surprise by kissing him deeply (he wasn't sure if he would ever get used to that; in a good way, of course) before sliding out of bed. He took the comforter with him.

"Hey!" Dave cried when Kurt stood. Kurt turned around, and Dave didn't miss the way he eyed his nearly-naked body strewn out on the bed. It was  _much_ brighter in the room now than it was the night before and he couldn't help feeling self-conscious. "What are you doing?"

"I took off my boxers after you fell asleep," Kurt said as he adjusted the fluffy sheet around his shoulders nonchalantly. It was long enough that it fell around Kurt's feet. Dave looked down, wishing that he had done the same. There wasn't much use in worrying about getting a hard-on at the thought of Kurt's perfectly pale, naked body lying next to him as they slept as morning wood was already a factor. He could feel himself grow hot, and couldn't distinguish whether it was from embarrassment or arousal. "I'd feel awkward walking around the apartment completely naked."

"You know... You could if you wanted to." Dave hinted slyly. Kurt made a harrumphing sound as he turned around.

"I'm going to get a shower. If you feel like taking me on that date you mentioned, breakfast at that café down the street would be lovely." With a small smile, Kurt traipsed out of the room. Dave was still sitting up on the bed from watching Kurt walk out when Kurt came back through the threshold.

"By the way. Me bringing up taking a shower?  _That_  was an invitation." Dave's eyebrows practically flew into his hair as Kurt let the sheet slide down slowly, inch by painful inch, until it fell just slightly past the small of Kurt's back, revealing all the gorgeous lines of his body. Kurt gave Dave a seductive smirk before walking out of his ( _their?_ ) room, hips swaying side to side, practically taunting him.

Dave was up out of the bed in an instant, following Kurt to the bathroom, practically tripping in his haste.

Kurt was right. With relationships, compromise had to be made, and if that meant having to redecorate their apartment so soon after moving in, or else having to shower with Kurt instead of taking a quick shower on his own to save some of the hot water for Kurt... Well…

 _He could live with that_.


End file.
